From Friend to Foe
by wiildrose
Summary: Jaime Sullivan was found by Miles Matheson and Sebastian Monroe in a tent by the side of her murdered father when she was just 8 yrs old. They raised her and taught her everything she knew. When Miles runs away and she realises Bass isn't himself anymore she runs off too. Three years later, she's 19 and she's caught by the Militia and being escorted back to Monroe. What will he do?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Jaime Sullivan...", the man's voice sang happily as he stomped towards me with his gun raised to my head. He had five men standing behind him, also with their guns raised.

My eyes roamed around smoothly as I calculated my options on how to take these guys down. I had my one sword raised in the air and the other down at my side.

"Nice to see you again, Neville", I spat, heavy sarcasm dropping from my voice. I hate this guy.

Neville's evil smile turned down into a hard glare, "General Sebastian Monroe has a bounty on your head. I suggest you come nicely or you'd be meeting him with fewer limbs"

"Aww, Neville... you know I can't make it easy for you"

Neville's glare got even harder, if it was even possible. "Where's Miles Matheson, girl?"

I shrugged, "How should I know?"

"So it's just a coincidence that your here? How dumb do you think I am?"

"Now, do you want me to answer that truthfully, sarcastically or do you want me down right lie? All options end badly", I smirked at him as I gripped my swords tighter, my knuckles turning white.

Neville frowned even more. If you didn't know him well, that glare would frighten you. But after seeing that ugly mug almost every day, you eventually get used to it. Though, he was still very intimating and smart. "Put down your weapons, Sullivan", he ordered using my last name like he had the right to command me what to do. I wasn't his soldier anymore.

I clenched my jaw together knowing I had to oblige. I didn't have a death wish. Neville's wasn't bluffing about chopping my limbs off. I had six guns pointed at my head right now. I slowly bent my knees and put my hands forward as I placed both swords on the ground in front of me. I then slid my khaki duffel off my shoulder that held everything that I posses inside, and threw that down as well. I stood back up with both my hands in the air.

Neville raised his eyebrow telling me, '_you're not quite finished'_

I rolled my eyes, _'fine'. _I slowly put my hand behind my back and the soldiers stood straight, their eyes widening as they gripped their guns alert.

"Relax boys, I'm not going to shoot your balls off just yet", I smirked as I pulled the silver .45 gun out from the back of my waistband. I lifted the gun out slowly and laid that on the ground as well.

"Good, girl", Neville smirked as he took a step closer and kicked my weapons and bag back to his men so they can pick them up. "Hands...", he ordered as he stood in front of me.

I groaned and put my hands forward, my hands in angry tight fists.

Neville put his gun in its brown leather holder that was attached to his belt, and then he handcuffed my hands together being as rough as he possibly could. He tightened the handcuffs as tight as he could, the metal already starting to pierce into my skin.

I wanted to punch that smirk right off his face. "Get this over with Neville, I know you're enjoying this way too much you sick..."

I felt a hard blow to my jaw as Neville's knuckles collided with it, cutting me mid-sentence. My head swung to the side and I fell to the muddy ground from the unexpected force. I groaned angrily that he got me to fall pathetically to the ground. I banged my shackled hands angrily into the muddy floor, frustrated. "Do you feel better now Neville... punching a girl?", I asked in a rugged breath, glaring at him as I spat out a bit of blood that formed in my mouth from the cut his punch caused.

"Yes", he smiled evilly again, "I've wanted to knock that smart mouth right out of you for a while", he growled, glaring down at me.

I wanted to respond with colourful profanity but before I could say anything he bent down and roughly gripped my left forearm, pulling me up to my feet. "Watch it!", I spat angrily.

His grip on me was tighter than necessary and it was definitely going to leave a bruise. Knowing how I was, he kept his hold on me as he pulled me with him to a wagon that wasn't too far away. The old and battered wooden wagon was parked beside a running stream and had two horses strapped at the front. There were five other horses without riders and two Militia men guarding a boy who was handcuffed and slouched inside the back of the wagon that held boxes of provisions and packed tents.

I eyed him curiously as Neville lifted me up from my forearm and threw me into the wagon roughly, landing me beside the boy.

"Let's head out. I want to be done babysitting by tomorrow", Neville growled, waving his arm around as he commanded his men to mount their horses and the wagon so they can begin to depart.

"Douche", I mumbled, intending for him to hear me but he didn't.

The men quickly got on their horses and Neville boarded n the wagon as the carriage started to move already.

Crap! I was in so much trouble. I cannot get to Philadelphia. I have no idea what General Monroe would do with me when he sees me.

I looked over at the boy sitting across from me in the wagon as we enjoyed the bumpy ride back to Philly. And by enjoyed, I mean hated. The boy was slouched to the side, his messy straight blonde hair covering his face. He needed a haircut. He was wearing old tattered pants and boots and a white dirty long sleeve shirt that had smudges of dry blood on it.

I cocked my head to the side trying to get a good look at his face, "Danny Matheson?", I questioned in a whisper so Neville wouldn't hear. I was wishing it was him even though I wasn't really in the position for a rescue.

His head shot up and I got a glance of his innocent light blue eyes. He looked younger than I thought. He was very pale and had fresh bruises on his jaw, cheeks and had a cut eyebrow that had dried blood smudged around it.

"Are you hurt?", I asked, my eyes roaming around his face and body trying to see if he had any major injuries.

"Mmm, fine", he mumbled, his voice croaky probably from the lack of water. "Who are you?", he asked curious as ever because a girl he's never met knew his name.

I chuckled and shook my head, "I was with the party of people who were rescuing you..."

"People?...", he questioned confused, having no idea who I was referring to.

I put my head up to see that no one was paying attention to us and I looked back down at him. "Yeah, your sister, your Uncle Miles, a girl named Maggie and someone named Aaron", I answered in a quick whisper.

"Charlie!", he perked up responding a bit too loudly.

"Shhh!", I retorted, looking up but still no one heard. "Keep it down"

He cringed as an apology and then his eyes widened in fear, "Is she okay?"

I nodded answering his question, "You should get some sleep. I'm going to get us out of here tonight, before we reach Philly. We cannot get to Monroe", I emphasis the 'cannot' as I carefully pulled out the bobby pin from my hair, making sure no one was watching me. I twirled it around my cuffed hands and inserted it into my boot so I could use later tonight.

I looked over at Danny who was eying me suspiciously and I just smiled up at him, giving him reassurance even though I was afraid of what Neville would do if we are caught escaping. But I needed to get us out of here before we get to Monroe. I would most likely be dead or tortured for information and Danny... I have no idea what they want with him. But it's never good being a prisoner for General Sebastian Monroe, ever.

* * *

><p>The night fell and so did the heat. Neville ordered his men to stop and set up camp as Danny and I were thrown on the floor and tied back to back to a large tree. I couldn't see him and he couldn't see me.<p>

"You okay?", I whispered when all the soldiers were finally asleep in their warm tents, leaving us in the cold without even a fire.

"Mmm", Danny mumbled back, it sounded like he was falling asleep.

I nodded my head even though he couldn't see me as I reached out my handcuffed hands and pulled out the bobby pin that I stored in my boot before. I quickly stretched out the pin, making it into a straight line and inserted it into the lock of my handcuffs. My face scrunched in concentration as I wiggled it around until I finally heard a click. I smiled in accomplishment as I quickly unbuckled the cuffs, trying to be as quiet as possible as placed them gently to the side.

"I'm gonna get us out of here...", I mumbled as I reached into my boot and removed the mini pocket knife I always stored in there. Yes, my black combat boots can store all sorts of items. And in the left boot is where I keep my shampoo and conditioner! Oh, I wished that was true. I haven't had the luxury of washing myself with anything other than an old rotten soap bar in years, and that's if I get lucky. I flicked the blade open and began cutting at the rope around my waist.

"And how are you gonna do that?", Danny asked skeptical.

I smirked as I finished cutting through the ropes that tied both out waists to the tree and pulled it off.

"What the?", Danny muttered a little too loudly as he looked down at the rope being loosened then removed from his waist. He moved over to face me with look of shock on his face.

"Shh...", I narrowed my eyes at him as I cut through the rope that were around my ankles. When I was done I jumped up happily, stopping in front of Danny. "See...", I smirked.

Danny let his jaw hang open astonished. "Okay...", he huffed with a small smile, "I underestimated you"

I nodded and kneeled down to cut away at his binds and remove the handcuffs. When he was free, I grabbed his hand and pulled him up. "Okay, keep quiet and follow me...", I said, my finger to my lips as I began to slowly make my way towards the wagon next to Neville's tent. I quickly leaned over and grabbed my duffle and was about to reach for my gun and swords when a figure came out from the side of the wagon.

"No, please... stay", Neville grinned angrily as he lunged forward towards me.

I collapsed to the ground, surprised and elbowed him in the jaw. "Danny, run!", I yelled but he stood there unsure of what to do. Before I could tell him to just leave me, two Militia soldiers came from behind and grabbed him, forcing his face into the dirt as they roughly handcuffed him again.

"I'm sick of your games, Sullivan", Neville hissed as he pulled my arms down to my side and dug his knee into them, forcing me not to move. He grabbed something from the side and before I could react I felt a hard blow to my head and then everything went black.

* * *

><p><span><em><strong>Writer's Note:<strong>_

Hey guys!  
>This is the first time I do a Revolution fic so please let me know what you like andor don't like so far. Criticism is always welcome.

Rose x.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

I felt something nudge me in the side, forcing me out of the peaceful slumber that I was in. My eyes fluttered open, the scorching sun above me burning my eyes forcing them shut again.

"Time to get up, Sunshine", I heard Neville's vicious voice sing, which automatically pulled me wide awake.

I opened my eyes and saw Neville smirking down at me, "You're awful to look at first thing in the morning", I croaked, my throat dry as I tried to wipe the blurriness out of my eyes but couldn't because I realised that both my hands were tied behind my back. That explains why my arms were so extremely sore. This is not the best position to sleep in... not that I had a choice.

Neville ignored my insult, "It's afternoon, dear. You missed quite a lot since I knocked you out. I probably should have done that from the beginning, would have saved me from all your shenanigans"

"Whatever, Hitler", I growled as I struggled to get into a sitting position. I looked up and my heart sunk as I realised that we were at the Monroe Militia headquarters which was formerly known as 'The Independence Hall', a place I knew all too well.

Neville groaned and walked over to the back of the wagon and undid the latch. He roughly grabbed my calves and pulled me towards him until we were face to face. He pulled his knife out and raised it to my face, smoothing the cold blade against my cheek. "I need you to be good girl now", Neville hissed.

I didn't move as I glared holes through him, "No promises", I replied, with a smirk. He can hurt me if he wanted. I'm sure Monroe would do far worse anyway.

He snickered and then his face went hard as he moved the knife away from my face and cut off the ropes tying my legs and wrists together. He pulled me down from the wagon and I groaned because he grabbed my forearm forcefully and didn't let me stretch out my aching arms or run my hands over my bruised and cut wrist.

I looked over at Danny who was already off the wagon and had a soldier by his side. They began to drag us inside the building and through the halls. The place was so familiar to me that I literally cringed from being back.

"Where we going?", Danny asked in a small whisper as he was dragged along by a soldier beside me.

No one answered him and we kept moving until we reach two large navy doors.

I took in a breath as my heart thudded against my chest like a drum. I'm so screwed.

Neville finally released my arm and knocked gently on the door.

"In...", a familiar grumpy voice called from behind it which made a pang of pain thump from my heart.

Neville swung his head to the side, gesturing for the soldier to bring Danny over. He took Danny inside as I waited impatiently in the middle of two tall and well built guards. I could easily take them out but getting out of here is impossible, and I obviously can't leave Danny here to fend for himself.

After only what felt like a few minutes, Danny was escorted out by two men and being taken away. He looked upset and confused as he let them drag him away with his head down.

"Hey, where are you taking him?", I called after them but before I could even move one of the men at my side quickly grabbed my arm, keeping me in my spot.

"Don't even think about it", he hissed, wrapping his grubby hands around me tighter.

"Okay, relax Padre", I retorted annoyed as I pulled my arm roughly out of his grasp.

The man glared hard at me and was opening his to mouth to say something that I'm sure was a threat, but before he could Neville finally stomped out of the room.

"In you go. He's ready for you", Neville smirked evilly, nudging his head towards the two large doors.

I didn't move from my spot, scared of walking in there but Neville moved around me and grabbed my arm again. He pulled me inside the room and roughly shoved me in front of him.

I turned back, glaring at Neville for being so irritating. I then turned back to the room in front of me. I didn't see General Monroe at first but I quickly spotted him beside the large window on my right. His back was to me and he was staring at the view as he held a glass cup in his hand. A position I've seen him in far too much.

I stood there silent waiting for him and finally he let out a heavy huff and plonked the glass cup not so gently on the windowsill and turned around to face me.

He surprisingly didn't look as angry as I thought he would but I knew he was going to play the gentle and kind Monroe first and then unexpectedly lash out. I had to watch myself. He moved and walked in front of his large wooden desk which had too many papers flowing on top of it. He leaned his back on it, clasping it with his hands.

"So nice to see you again, Jaime", he smiled and for a second it looked so genuine. He was examining me because I knew I didn't look the same as I did three years ago.

I nodded my head as a response, "Can't say the same myself", I muttered, turning to Neville who looked just delighted at my misfortune of being here.

Monroe let out a light annoyed chuckle, "Still the same I see", he said, rubbing his jaw as he narrowed his eyes at me, still trying to read me.

I didn't say anything and just glared at him waiting for him to get to the point.

Monroe then turned to Neville and nodded his head, 'Thank you, Captain", he said, gesturing Neville to leave.

"Sir", Neville nodded his head as well and gave me one last glare before leaving Monroe's office and closing the doors behind him.

My heart pounded harder against my chest even more then before because I was alone with him. I had no idea what to expect. He was a loose cannon.

"Now...", he began as he pulled away from the desk and walked closer towards me.

I took in a deep breath, and plastered on a brave face so he wouldn't know I was afraid of what he'll do to me. That would just please him even more.

"Knowing that you're going to be difficult. I'm going to give you two options...", Monroe hissed as he stepped forward, inches away from me. "You can tell me where Miles is...", he lifted his hand as he brushed his fingers against my cheek making me instantly cringe away from him but he quickly grasped my jaw tightly so I couldn't turn away. His intimidating ocean blue eyes pierced right through me as his jaw clenched, "or... I'll make you tell me"

I groaned as he tightened his hand, making my gums painfully squash into my teeth. "I don't know where he is", I lied and that's when he cracked.

Monroe growled as he dragged and pushed me into the nearest wall, banging my back hard into it as he placed his forearm across my chest and his other hand around my neck. "Don't lie to me, Jaime. You know I hate it when you lie", he hissed, so close to my face that I could feel the hotness of his breath.

"Let me go, Monroe", I hissed out in a breathless huff because he knocked the wind out of me.

His face turned into a hard scowl, getting even angrier because I called him by his last name, Monroe. It angered him because I wasn't even calling him Bass anymore. It was like I never knew him. Like what we went through together in the past never existed. And it made him furious.

"After all this, after all I've done for you... this is how you're going to treat me?", he snarled through clenched teeth.

"I'm not the one with my hand around your neck", I retorted angrily, looking down to gesture his large rough hand around my throat.

Monroe's face just grew more furious because he knew I was right and I felt him squeeze his hand tighter around my neck, closing my windpipe a little making it difficult to breath.

I quickly pulled my hands up and wrapped them around Monroe's wrist, trying to pull him away from me but he quickly pushed my hands down and pressed his arm on top of them so I couldn't move. I started to struggle so he leaned forward pressing his body into mine, forcing my legs not to move either. That was a smart call because I was going to aim for his groan next with my knee, even though he would have killed me if I did.

"Don't...", I muttered out painfully, having difficulty breathing in and out.

"Don't tempt me, Jaime. Tell me where Miles is", he said a little too calm for my liking, his face only inches away from mine, our noses nearly touching.

"I t-told you, I d-don't know", I managed to utter out before he tightened his hand around my neck even more.

He cocked his head to the side, getting a better look at me as he chocked me. I could no longer breathe. My eyes widened in fear as I struggled to get him off me but he wouldn't move an inch. He was too strong.

"Don't lie to me!", He yelled in my face so close that I felt his spit flicker on my cheek.

My throat started to burn as I tried to intake air that wasn't going to come. My vision started to become blurry and just when I thought I was going to pass out Monroe let go of me and moved back, making me thud into the ground pathetically.

"Ughh!", I greedily breathed in a gush of air as I clasped my hand around my bruised neck in pain. I saw Monroe's worn out combat boots pace around in front of me as I struggled to get my breathing back to its normal rhythm. When I calmed down a bit, my throat was still burning and I leaned my back against the wall as I angrily stared up at Monroe who was leaning against his desk with two of his men beside him as he stared down at me, making me feel so small. When did he bring them in?

"I tried to be nice, Jaime. I gave you a chance to answer me but now you're making it real difficult for me to control myself", he said, his voice calm again as he nodded his head to the soldiers and before I could react the two men stomped towards me and pulled me to my feet.

"Don't touch me", I yelled, struggling to get out of their hold. He knew I hated it when people touched me.

They ignored me as they dragged me across the room where the fireplace was and they slammed my back against a long coffee table that was in front of it. A strong electric pain shot through my spine from the force as they held me down. One man was at one end of the table holding my arms down, and the other was at the other end holding my legs down, making it impossible to move.

I huffed out breathless as I watched Monroe glare down at me as he walked around the table.

"Did you really think you could just run away from me like Miles did?", Monroe questioned rhetorically as he moved over to the fireplace and pulled out a metal rod that was poking out of the flames.

I stretched out my neck to see what it was and my eyes went wide when I saw it. He was holding a branding iron with the well known 'M' at the end of it. It was what he had all his soldiers get burnt into their wrist. The 'M' with the half circle around it was glowing orange and I could see the heat radiating out of it. I tried to move out of the men's grasp as Monroe walked over to me, holding the iron bar tightly in his hand.

"I should have took off when Miles did!", I yelled back angrily as I stared at Monroe's blank face.

His face was no longer calm as he clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes, "You belong to me, Jaime!", he spat out angrily losing his cool as he swung the iron rod around. "I found you! I was your family. Without me you wouldn't even be alive!"

"You are nothing to me!", I spat out forcefully. His words angered my inner core and hurt me all at the same time. I didn't belong to anybody. Yes, he did essentially save my life. He took me in and took care of me but as years passed, he started acting ruthless and took things overboard. He over-used his power and he wasn't the same man that I knew. The man I knew was like a brother. But the man standing before me was nothing but a tyrant.

Monroe's face turned to complete fury as he bent down closer to me and angrily pulled my shirt up a little to reveal half of my stomach. Without warning he pushed the branding iron into the left side of my stomach, above my hip.

I yelled in pain as I felt the hot iron burn into my delicate skin. I felt my veins pop out of my arms as I tried to pull out of the grasp of the two soldiers that held me down. It was like the heat was burning through my entire body instead of only my stomach. I whimpered in agony and Monroe finally removed the hot iron. My skin felt like it was literally in flames and it throbbed in anger. I looked down at my stomach and saw the small 'M' imprinted on top of my hip. I huffed out in pain as I examined my raw pink flesh. Blood oozed out of the burn, it was obviously going to leave a nasty bumpy scar which is exactly what he wanted. I closed my eyes angrily as I thudded my head against the table, frustrated because of what he just did.

"Like I said, you're mine, Jaime", he hissed out angrily as he stared at me satisfied with the bright red 'M' embedded into my skin that stands for his name, 'Monroe'. He nodded his head to the soldiers as he turned away and pushed the branding iron back into the fireplace.

I just let them lift me up defeated and they pulled me to my feet.

"Get her out of here", Monroe muttered like I was a pathetic piece of trash his back towards us, still facing the fireplace.

* * *

><p><span><strong><em>Writer's Note:<br>_**

Hey peeps, I enjoyed writing this so if you enjoyed reading this please comment so I know it's worth it to keep going.  
>Let me know what you liked and disliked. Criticism is always welcome.<p>

Rose x.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

I lied on the thin, rock hard uncomfortable mattress as I stared up at the moldy ceiling that had too many cracks in it. Monroe locked me in a cell, an actually jail cell and it stunk like puke and mold. It was dark and quiet. I think I'm the only one down here and for some reason that scared me even more. Luckily Danny wasn't here... or maybe he's dead. I didn't know what to think anymore. I need answers. I had no idea what they're doing with him.

I groaned in pain again as I looked down at my stomach where I've pulled my shirt up so the fabric wouldn't touch where Monroe branded me. I was so angry. No I was furious at what he did.

Monroe never hurt me before. Yeah, he trained me years back when I was with him and Miles, and we knocked each other a few times in the process. But since he found me in that tent that day when I was eight years old, with my father's throat slit beside me and blood running down my legs and face, he never hurt me. It's like he isn't even the same man anymore. Even the way he looked at me was different. He had so much anger, so much hate. I just hope the same old Bass is still in there somewhere. But I had high hopes.

My stomach has been throbbing angrily ever since I was shoved in here. And the humidity in the room wasn't helping the burning pain either. All I wished for right now was something cold to put on the burn to relieve the pain at least a little.

I've been lying on this bed for what felt like hours. My body ached, my throat burned from Monroe nearly choking me to death, my flesh burnt from where he burnt me and my stomach was growling for the need of food. The cell had no windows so I had no idea what time it was and that frustrated me even more. I need to get out of here but knowing how Monroe has secured the place, it was probably impossible.

By guessing, I think it's been about a whole day since I've been locked in this cell now. And the guard only brought me one lousy meal which I gobbled down in a matter of minutes. I felt pathetic and small that I needed it. I wish I could just throw the food in their face but I needed it to strengthen me if I wanted to get out of here or just survive. I was again about to doze off when a loud clacking on the cell's metal bars jumped me awake.

I looked up to see two Militia men in their adorable uniforms glaring down at me.

"What now?", my voice croaked out tired.

I knew why they were here. It was a matter of time until Monroe used a more forceful method of getting information out of me. They didn't say a word as they unlocked the gate, holding two large AK47's in their hands. I wasn't going to mess with them. One of them walked in and pulled me up from the bed by my forearm and pulled me out of the cell with him.

I didn't retaliate as I let them drag me to wherever they wanted me to be, each of them at my side. They went through the halls and I ended up in front of a large heavy metal door that was too familiar. This is where they interrogated people. And by interrogated, I mean tortured.

One of them pulled the weighty door open and there was a single large metal table in the middle of the room with cuffs attached at both ends. I gulped as I looked at Sergeant Strausser who was standing in front of the table and then Monroe who was leaning against the far wall with his arms crossed.

The door thudded closed behind me and I jumped from the loud sound and from the fear of being alone in this room with these two uncivilised men.

Monroe pushed himself off the wall and walked around the room and stopped in front of me, his hands behind his back.

"Jaime...", his nodded his head at me as a way to greet me. Oh, so nice. "You remember Sergeant Strausser...", he spoke, nodding his head towards him.

I looked up at Strausser and wanted to cringe from the menacing smile he was indicating towards me. I hate this guy. He's one of the few people that actually scared me when I was with the Militia. He was reckless, insane and took joy in carving his knife through a person's flesh. "How can I forget", I answered with my head raised, putting on my strong stance.

"A pleasure seeing you again, Sullivan", Strausser smiled, his yellowing teeth seeping though his dried lips.

Monroe then walked up towards me, only inches apart. "So... is there anything you want to tell me before I leave you at the mercy of Sergeant Strausser?", he questioned, hissing out the words angrily.

"We can play this game all day, Monroe. I don't know where Miles is", I answered, strongly. If I believed my lie and stick with it then it becomes to start feeling like the truth. I have to make him believe me. I have to make him see me as the innocent victim here. I can never tell him where Miles is.

"Fine, have it your way then", Monroe spat, walking backwards and turning to the psycho in the room. "Strausser...", he called, as he turned back to me.

Strausser and Monroe strode their way over to me and I let them grab me, one arm each. I didn't bother fighting, I wasn't getting out of here unless I had a gun tucked behind my waistband and I shot them both through their skulls. And even though I had a gun, I probably wouldn't be able to kill them. Monroe was too fast, too good. He taught me everything I know.

They shoved me face first into the table, making my lip split open against the hard metal table. Nice! They bolted down my hands above my head, and chained down my legs together attaching me to the table so I couldn't move. I cringed as the burn on my stomach pressed against the cool metal table. At first it felt good to have something cold on the burn but after the metal heated up with my body temperature, it burned from having so much pressure on it. I could feel my healing flesh rip back open and I knew that it was bleeding again. I struggled to look at the two men because my back was towards them making it hard for me to keep both my eyes on them.

Strausser then pulled out a small knife from his boot and leaned towards me and as he placed the blade at the back of my neck where the back collar of my shirt was. Before I could react he slid the knife down my back, slicing off my shirt. The noise of the tearing material was all that I could hear and I froze as my body tensed up in fear.

"What are you doing?", I asked in a frightened mumble, letting the fear sound out in my voice, as I turned my neck to see Monroe looking down at his muddy boots.

Monroe looked up when I spoke and for a second I thought I saw concern wash on his face but before I could read too much into it, he turned away to look at Strausser.

What were they doing?

They both ignored me as Strausser pulled the cut up shirt from underneath me and threw it to the ground leaving my back exposed and the only thing covering me was the black sports bra I was wearing.

Strausser licked his lips as he stared at me and pulled out something from the side of the room, and my eyes went wide when I saw it.

"I found this on a expedition the other day and I'm so thrilled that you're going to be the first one to use it", Strausser spat out happily as he held the black thick whip in his hand and talking about it like it was a piece of art.

Strausser then looked up at Monroe and gave him a nod and I heard Monroe's boots stomping on the dirty cement floor as he left the room, slamming the door shut leaving me alone with this insane man.

"Let's get started now shall we...", Strausser smiled happily as he gripped the end of the whip tightly and raised his arm to ready himself. He then lashed his hand down striking me hard with the whip.

I felt the whip slice into my skin, feeling the slice of throbbing pain from my left shoulder down to my right lower back. I groaned out loudly in pain but didn't say a word as my back throbbed and could feel an angry pulse radiating from the wound. The whip hurt so badly and I clenched my jaw together and turned my face away from Strausser so I didn't have to see his ugly mug. I tried to relax my muscles but I was in too much pain. I huffed out defeated and laid my cheek against the cool metal table as I clenched my eyes shut and tried to forget the pain and reassure myself to stay strong.

'_It's going to be okay. They're not going to break you. You can't tell them anything or the blood of Miles, Charlie and their friends will be on your hands'_

"Where's Miles Matheson, sweet peach?", he questioned delighted as he walked around the table so he could see my face. He placed his rough fingers against my neck as he pulled away my messy hair from my face and smoothed his hand across my cheek.

I whimpered and clenched my eyes shut, my eyes automatically watering when he touched me. He could strike me how many times he wanted as long as he doesn't touch me. I can't believe Monroe left me with this freak. He knew what happened to me when he found me. He knew I hated people coming to close.

I ignored him and turned my head, trying to turn away from his touch.

Strausser chuckled happily at my reaction, "Always a toughie, eh?", he muttered under his breath as he stepped away from me and I heard his boots stomp around me until he stopped and I felt him strike me with the whip again with all his strength. Then he did it again, and again, and again.

I whimpered out in pain as Strausser had to stop to catch his breath from hitting me so hard. My back felt like it was literally on fire as I breathed out roughly unable to keep calm without screaming. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

'_Just breathe. Keep it together, Sullivan'._

* * *

><p>My back felt like a burning pit of coal that kept getting angrier and angrier, and more painful every inch I moved. I laid slumped on my stomach, unable to even lie my back on the dirty smelly mattress in my cell because it hurt too much. Strausser gave up on me after 32 whips. Yes, that's right I counted. He barely even asked me any questions about Miles. I think he just enjoyed hurting me more than actually getting information.<p>

My breathing was still uneven and filled with pain as I laid there, desperately waiting for the pain to cease at least a little but it just continued to throb in agony.

My entire body felt double its weight. I could barely move when Strausser was finished with me. Two Militia soldiers had to literally drag me back to my cell on my knees because I couldn't even hold myself. And that's not even the worse part. Strausser left me how I was so I was dragged shirtless all the way back, passing other soldiers who were actually disgusted by the sight of my back.

I couldn't even imagine how it looked. It felt swollen and there were most likely lines of cuts and blood where each whip stroke against my skin. My back was ruined and if I was still alive when it actually healed, I'm sure there would be nasty lined scares all over my back showing where each whip hit, which will never disappear.

My body felt exhausted and even with the pain that was thumping through me, my eyelids began to get heavier and I succumbed sleep so I didn't have to feel anymore. Just when I felt my body relax and I was about to pass out I heard metal clacking then footsteps come towards me in the cell. I heard the person grab the small wooden stool that was underneath a little desk in the cell and they dragged it beside the bed and sat next to me. I was too out of it to even care who this person was. I just wanted to sleep.

I heard water splashing in some sort of vessel and then I felt pressure on my back as the person dabbed a wet cloth to clean the blood from my wounds. The pressure shot electric pains through me as the water stung my open flesh and it felt like I was getting whipped all over again.

The pain made the sleepiness I felt completely disappear and I turned my head to see who this horrible person was. The figure was dark and blurry in my vision so I couldn't really make his face. With the little amount of energy I had left in my body, I pulled my arm back and grabbed the persons wrist, stopping them from what they were doing.

"Stop...", I mumbled out pathetically as I breathed out roughly, trying to keep hold of the persons wrist.

"Jaime...", Monroe's voice breathed out softly and for a second he sounded like the old Bass that I knew. He sounded like he did when he would try to speak to me when I was upset, and it only made me angrier. This was his fault. "Relax, let me patch you up", he said as he gently unwrapped my fingers from his wrist, which wasn't so hard since I didn't have much strength to hold him tight enough.

I blinked clearing out the blurriness from my vision as I examined him. Monroe looked tired, his forehead creased together as he concentrated on cleaning the dried blood from my shoulder blades first. This guy had a serious case of bipolar. One second he's physically hurting me and the next he's gently patching up the wounds he caused. He dipped the cloth back into the bucket of water and rinsed out all the blood out before continuing to dab my back softly with the cloth, the pain still coursing through my body.

I cringed my eyes shut, my eyes going watery from the pain but I held back the tears. The last thing I wanted was for him to see me cry. "Stop", I called out painfully my hands tightly in a fist. "Please, don't touch me", I mumbled as I opened my eyes and glared painfully at Monroe. I didn't need his help.

He stopped and looked down at me with soft gentle eyes that were filled with guilt. It quickly disappeared as his jaw clenched angrily as he spoke, "If you just gave me the answers I needed, it would have never gotten this far", he huffed out as he continued, like it was all my fault.

I groaned furious from his words and from the pain. "I told you I don't know anything", I hissed out through clenched teeth.

"And I'm supposed to believe that", he angrily plonked the bloodied cloth into the bucket of water that was at his feet. He then opened up a small tin container and he dabbed his index finger and middle finger into it, removing a muddy looking yellow substance from it. He then moved his hand and began to dab the substance on my back.

I tensed from the coldness of the substance but then I relaxed when it cooled down the pain a little. "When have I ever lied to you?", I asked softly, turning away from him as my eyelids began to get heavier. Whatever he was putting on me was working. I already felt my muscles relax the more he spread it over my shredded skin.

"Well you can't blame me for not believing you. You broke my trust when you disappeared three years ago without warning", he retorted angrily but his fingers were still gentle as he smoothed the medicine across my wounds.

"I h-had to...", I breathed out closing my eyes as I let the exhaustion I felt overwhelm my body and blackness take over.

* * *

><p>Monroe continued to dab Jaime's back with the salve that he got from the infirmary. She looked so weak and her back was in shreds, all torn up and sliced from what he let Strausser do. He felt horrible for doing this to her but he was so angry. What else could he do? If Miles got the help he needed, he could take him down. He could kill him. He could destroy everything he fought so hard to build.<p>

And Jaime ran away from him. Why? What was so wrong with him that Miles, his best friend tried to point a gun and kill him in his sleep, and then a year later this little girl that he raised for eleven years just up and left? She was probably working for the Rebels and he didn't even know it.

"Well you can't blame me for not believing you. You broke my trust when you disappeared three years ago without warning", Monroe retorted angrily but his fingers were still gentle as he smoothed out the medicine.

"I h-had to...", Jaime breathed out painfully.

Monroe cringed in frustration and didn't want to look at her face when she said those words. Why did she have to? He finished putting the salve all over her back, almost finishing the container and moved his fingers back, wiping the left over medicine on the thigh of his pants.

"Why? What did I ever do to you?", he breathed out as he turned to look at Jaime's face but her eyes were closed, she fell asleep. He frowned as he gently moved her dark wavy hair away from her face so he could get a better look at her.

She looked so much older than she did three years ago. She was much smaller in body size like she wasn't eating properly, but she grew a lot taller as well. Her usual joyful rosy cheeks were bruised and sunken in from the lack of proper nutrition and there were dark tired circles underneath her eyes. Even her skin colour seemed tanner almost like she spent most of her time in the sun. What was she doing all the time that she was away. She wasn't the little girl he remembers. Even when her light brown eyes stared at him, there was more hurt and pain there than before. He saw that her neck was bruised with his fingerprints and he felt sick in his stomach.

Jaime was always tough. She was strong spirited and he isn't surprised that she wasn't giving him any information about the whereabouts of his best friend. She loved Miles. They trained her to be the best soldier that she could be. She was the youngest Militia soldier they've ever had. She was there before they even began the Militia. She was there when times were easier, well as easy as it could get after the lights went out, when people didn't begin to rebel against them.

Miles and Bass taught her how to protect herself. They taught her to fight. And they taught her to kill.

What went so wrong?

Monroe brushed his fingers across Jaime's bruised cheek as he stared down at her. She looked so peaceful and innocent when she slept but really she was in a world that was burning to the ground. And she was far from innocent. Her innocence was ripped away from her when those lights went out. She's seen too much, she's been hurt too much and she has murdered too many. It's funny to think that she's already been through what people wouldn't even go through in a lifetime and she was only nineteen.

"I'm sorry, Jaime", he mumbled out painfully and moved his hand away as he stood up from his seat. "But sometimes I have to do things I don't like to get the job done", he said as he took one last glance at the little girl that he thought he knew before leaving her cell and locking the metal doors behind him.

* * *

><p><span><em><strong>Writer's Note:<strong>_

Hey to whoever is reading this.  
>Sorry if this chapter is a bit too violent but it is how it is.<br>I don't know if I should keep going with this...  
>Let me know if anyone is actually enjoying my dark story, loll.<p>

Rose x.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

I sat cross legged on my bed as my eyes roamed across the words on the page of the book I was reading. I've been in this cell to what I can count as nine days. My back wasn't completely healed but the open cuts that were there were finally closed and all that was left was redness, scarred tissue and very dark colourful bruising.

I sat with my body arched forward so I wasn't leaning my back against the wall because it was still delicate and painful. But thankfully it was healed enough that I could actually wear the shirt that Monroe left me that night after Strausser was done with me. It took me three or four days until the skin on my back was healed enough that there wasn't much broken tissue that would stick against the material of my shirt so I could actually wear it without being cringing in pain.

Thankfully, Monroe left me alone and so did his men. They only came down to my cell to give me food and water, and let me out once or twice a day to use the bathroom in which I forced the baggy grey shirt that Monroe gave me on so no one would see my body.

If it wasn't for the food, water and pee outings I would have thought Monroe had forgotten about me. I would have believed that if it wasn't for how he tended my wounds that night. I was in so much pain and he was so gentle with me. I knew that somewhere deep down, the Bass I knew was in there. I just wondered how deep down he was and if he was ever going to resurface.

I groaned agitated at the stupid book in my hands that Monroe sent down for me. I thudded it shut and slammed it down against my mattress. The book was a crappy one. It kept going on and on and wouldn't get to the point. I just wanted it to jump into the action already. I'm not a very patient person. And when you've been caged like an animal for ten days, your patience level wears very thin.

Miles and Bass hated that aspect of me when they started to let me fight for the Militia. I would jump right into action. A lot of the time I got hurt because of it and sometimes nearly killed but I got the job done, and that's what really mattered. I was so reckless that they didn't want me to attend any expeditions anymore but much to their dismay I snuck out and did what I wanted anyways.

Miles and Bass began training me to protect myself when I was around ten, but they never let me join them on their expeditions when they started the Militia. That was until I persuaded them when I was around fourteen and half. It took me a long time to convince them to let me fight. Well, I didn't really convince them because they had no other choice but to let me because they needed someone to go undercover in a Rebel camp that didn't automatically look harmful so they didn't automatically reject them. And what's so harmful about a fourteen year old girl, right? I got in there and got the job done. After that, they couldn't say no to me anymore.

I remember though, on my second expedition, I was with Bass and his men while Miles stayed in Philly to take care of the head quarters. The Militia and the Rebels were in a squirmish. We outnumbered the Rebels, two-to-one and we were taking cover behind trees and large boulders. I kept charging forward and Bass kept telling me to pull back but I kept ignoring him and I kept shooting and moving to closer covers. I killed a dozen of them until one of them got a good shot at me. A bullet pierced through my collar bone frighteningly close to my heart.

Bass saw me press my hand on my torso and bring it out to my eyes to see it being covered in blood. I crumbled to the ground from the excruciating pain and he quickly but carefully made his way towards me. It took a good five minutes to get to me because I was so far out. I still remember the sound of his voice. I've never heard him sound so worried.

* * *

><p>"<em>Jaime, Jaime!", he yelled, applying pressure on the bullet wound with his hands, trying to stop the bleeding. He forced himself to turn away from me as he quickly ripped a long piece of fabric from the hem of his shirt and swiftly wrapped it around my right shoulder then across my torso where the bullet hole was and under my left underarm. He clenched his jaw tightly together as he tied the material as tight as he could and cringed a little when he heard me let out a small pained hiss. "You're going to be okay... it's just a little scratch...", he soothed me reassuringly as I looked up at him.<em>

_I painfully snorted at his words, "Stop trying to make me feel better, Bass", I tried to smile through the pain as I mumbled out breathlessly. "A hole is nothing like a scratch", I groaned._

_Bass rolled his eyes. "Still a smart mouth when you've been shot I see", he muttered under his breath as he picked me up in his arms. "I'm going to get you out of here". Before I could tell him to not risk his life and to leave me there he shook his head already reading the expression on my face, "Don't even try it"_

I was so far out that Bass had to crawl all the way over to me, being careful to not get his head blowed off in the process, and then carry me to cover before the Rebels get too close to us to finish the job. When we were safe he patched me up and by that time our men killed every last Rebel. I still remember his words after he finished stitching me up.

"_I told you to stop moving forward", he muttered, shaking his head in anger more than disappointment. "You could have gotten yourself killed!"_

_I felt guilty so I smiled up at him innocently, "But I didn't..."_

"_Yeah, cos I saved your ass!", Bass retorted, getting more angry._

"_I'm sorry", I whined out. I was in so much pain that I really didn't want to hear his lecturing right now._

"_Sorry ain't gonna cut it if you're dead", Bass replied back softly looking down, smoothing his fingers through his hair in frustration._

_I leaned forward, putting my hand on his arm so I could get him to look at me. His head shot up and I put on a big smile trying to get him to relax. Bass realised what I was trying to do and he let a small smile creep on his lips, as he grabbed my hand and held them in his._

_"Don't ever do that to me again, Jaime. I've lost too much already", he spoke softly, looking deep in my eyes._

_I knew he was referring to his parents and his little sisters that he lost before the Blackout. "I'm not going anywhere...", I reassured, clasping his hand tightly aswell._

* * *

><p>The lecturing didn't end there though. He kept at it the whole ride back to Philly. And I received even more of an earful from Miles when we arrived.<p>

They were both different men then, Miles turning for the better and Bass turning for the worse.

Then again I was a different person back then too. I killed people. I help them in their process of destroying this country and putting people through so much pain. I'm the one that caused families to get torn apart. They kept me in the dark a lot though. I was still so young and there was so much I didn't know. I thought we were doing the right thing. I thought we were helping. But I was wrong. Behind the shadows, there was torture, people being murdered in cold blood, whole families and communities massacred, and much more ruthless actions that was happening that I had no idea about.

That night when Miles came to me and told me all the horrible things that Bass did I was sceptical at first but I knew there was things they were hiding from me. I wasn't an idiot. Bass was acting different. He began to act like a crazed man and it scared me. Then Miles told me that he was planning to end everything and kill his best friend.

At first I thought he was playing a prank on me but when his hard face did falter I lost it.

"_Are you crazy!", I yelled, pushing Miles back making him stumble and slide off the edge of my bed which he was sitting on. He quickly recovered and stood up as I flung the sheets off me and got up to face him. "Have you lost your mind, Miles?"_

"_I'm sorry, Jaime. But he's gone too far. There's too much blood on his hands and with the way he's going, they're only going to get bloodier"_

"_Have you even tried speaking to him?"_

_Miles snorted and shook his head like I asked the dumbest question in the world, like if the sky was green. "You think I'd ever conclude on killing my best friend if there wasn't any other option. I've tried everything, Jaime. He's not the same man anymore. He's gone too far. Too many innocent people have died and if I don't stop him, all that blood would be on me too"_

"_That blood is on all of us. How are we any better than him?"_

"_Have you killed a guy, his wife and his three children just because he was a Rebel? Have you gone and..."_

_Before he could continue with his list I stopped him at just the first point, "I'm sorry, what?", I asked astonished._

_Miles let out a frustrated huff ribbing his temple then looking back up at me, "remember a couple of months back when a rebel bombed the bar that Bass and I were in, and I nearly lost an arm?" I nodded my head for him to go on. "Yeah, well I lied to you", he paused, pursing his lips together guiltily before he continued on with his story, "those five coffins that you saw wasn't five Rebel men that initiated the bombing... it was one man and his wife and kids"_

"_What?", I asked astonished, putting my hands to my mouth as everything sunk in. The way that Bass has been acting recently seeped through my mind. He was different._

"_We don't have much time", Miles began before I could question him more. "I need you to pack a bag, right now. If things go south, we need to run"_

"_No! I'm not letting you kill Bass!", I yelled out in shock, waving my hands around._

"_I have to, Jaime", he said softly, pain in his eyes as he stepped towards me to comfort me._

"_No!", I yelled, pushing his hands away. "You can't do this, Miles. We can fix this"_

"_We can't. Sebastian Monroe is way pass the point of mending"_

_I shook my head as he called him by his full name like he didn't even know him anymore. They were like brothers. No, they were brothers! "I won't let you do it, Miles. I'm not letting you kill him"_

_Miles breathed out frustrated and hurt, "I'm sorry then..."_

"_For what?", I spat out angry and confused._

"_For this...", Miles muttered under his breath and before I knew it he closed the gap between us and clasped his hand over my mouth so I couldn't scream._

_I thrashed and kicked but it was of no use. A small sixteen year old girl was no match to Miles Matheson. He swiftly tied my hands and legs up, not forgetting to tie a bandana around my mouth before throwing me in the closet._

"_I'm sorry..."_

* * *

><p>Those were the last words I heard from Miles' mouth before he closed those two large closet doors and left to put a bullet in his best friends head.<p>

Fortunately, he couldn't do it.

After what felt like hours I finally managed to cut off the ropes that tied my hands and legs using an old sword that I had stored in my closet a while ago. By the time I got out, he was long gone.

_I huffed out breathless and in accomplishment as I finally cut through the ropes that were tying my wrists together. As soon as they were released I untied my legs as quick as I could and removed the bandana that Miles tied around my mouth. I was still on my knees not even giving myself time to stand up as I pushed open the closet doors in a huff._

_Just as I did that I saw Bass strode through the door. His furious eyes rested on mine as he looked at me, trying to read what happened. He saw the cut rope on the floor, me on my knees after opening the closet doors and the stress, worry and sweat clear on my face._

_I breathed out relieved when I saw Bass standing in front of me in the flesh. He was still in his grey sweatpants and black tight fitted tee and I could see the veins pulsing out of his arm as he clenched his fist together in absolute fury. His face was scrunched together in rage and his jaw was clenched so tight that I thought his teeth were going to crack. _

_I was relieved he was okay but then my heart shuddered. Where's Miles?_

"_I'm gonna kill him!", Bass yelled at the top of his lungs as he stormed across the room to my window, staring out of it, hoping to find Miles in the shadows but he was long gone._

_I've never seen Bass so angry, so full with fury and truth be told it scared me a bit. Maybe Miles was right._

_I quickly shuffled to my feet as I took a delicate step towards him. His hands were clenched so hard his whole hand was white. I slowly reached out to place my hand on his shoulder but he suddenly turned and grabbed my outstretched hand, smashing my back hard against the nearest wall._

_That was the first time Bass has ever actually laid his hands on me, and that got me even more frightened, if it was even possible. "Did you know anything about this?", he questioned harshly in my face, his saliva flickering on my cheek._

_"Of course not...", I mumbled out, actually terrified of the man in front of me._

_Bass' intimidating blue eyes just glared right through me as his hold on my wrist tightened._

"_Bass, you're hurting me...", I whimpered as my eyes began to water. I wanted to cry because what the man I trusted was doing to me rather because the pain he was inflicting._

_With my soft words his anger deflated and he quickly loosened his grip and stepped back. "Mmm sorry...", he mumbled, his eyes roaming my face like he had no control of what he just did. He just shook his head, not giving himself the time to feel guilty as he moved back over to the window, watching again. He clenched his hand tightly again in a fist as he slammed it angrily against the window. With the force that he hit it I'm surprised it didn't shatter. "How can you do this to me, Miles?", he muttered in agony more than anger. I couldn't imagine how he was feeling._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

From the day Miles left, things were never the same. Bass was never the same. That's when I began to see who he truly was, and little by little I planned my own escape. At sixteen years old, I run away from the Monroe Militia and started a new life. And it wasn't easy. Monroe sent out patrols to find me for months after I escaped. I was living as a fugitive in a world that was burning to the ground. I slept in alleyways, deep in the woods, in abandoned barns, in old collapsing buildings and anywhere where I couldn't be found so I could at least get a few hours sleep so I had the energy to keep running. Once I went as far out as Mexico. I snuck through the borders and stayed there for a month or two to get back on my feet after getting stabbed. Yes, I've gotten stabbed, shot, slashed, and burned. A girls life on her own isn't fun. I could take care of myself but it's not easy when you have no backup when situations go bad.

My mind was so wrapped in thought of the past that I didn't even realise that a Militia soldier opened my cell and walked in telling me that General Sebastian Monroe wanted to see me.

I got up reluctantly. I'd do anything to leave this cell but the last person I wanted to see was Monroe. I followed the Militia soldier slowly, trying to delay my meeting with him as most as possible.

The noise of two feet walking on the hard tiled floor echoed the quite night as we walked through the empty halls. I wanted to ask him why he was taking me to the wing where the bedrooms were rather then the torture chamber but I knew he wouldn't answer me. Not because he wanted to ignore me but because Monroe didn't give him that information. He was too paranoid to let anyone know anything. He was worse then when I left him, way worse.

"Come in", Monroe called from behind his bedroom door as the Militia soldier tapped his knuckles against it. He opened the door and I was escorted inside.

Monroe was staring outside his bedroom window, his eyebrows narrowed together and his jaw in a tight clench. He looked tired, frustrated and angry. The I turned and saw Strausser in the corner of the room sitting on a large maroon chair as he twirled a sharp blade between his fingers. I took an automatic light step back when I saw him, my back thudding against the Militia soldier who escorted me in. I let out a soft groan of pain as my back stung a little from the impact, my slashed back still sore. My heart began beating fast as I saw the smirk twirl up at Strausser's lips when his eyes set on me. They sparkled with delight like he knew a piece of juicy information that I didn't, and it terrified me to the very core.

Monroe turned his body from the window and his eyes didn't even land on me as he nodded to the Militia soldier behind me, gesturing him to leave. The soldier did as he was told and closed the door behind him which made me more anxious. Monroe turned his back to me again as he looked outside the large window that had the view of the pitch black night, shinning white moon and glistening stars. If it wasn't for the candles and torches lit all over the room, the room would have been pitch black.

"Miles is on his way to Philadelphia. He's killed far too many of my men already and he's coming for me next" Monroe hissed out and I could almost imagine the angry scowl on his face. He then turned around to face me taking delicate steps forward. "He knows I have Danny...", he spoke, his voice more soft. He stopped walking until he was inches away from me. He was slightly drunk. I could smell it on his breath. He raised his hand to grip my jaw tightly, "he knows I have you", he murmured angrily, tightening his hold on me, making my gums crush painfully into my teeth.

I lifted my hands wrapping them around his wrist as I tried to pry his hand off but he didn't budge. "W-what do you want, Monroe?", I mumbled out through his hand, trying to turn away from his intimidating icy blue eyes that were piercing through me.

He gripped me tighter, forcing me to look at him, "I'm desperate, Jaime. I need answers. I know you know what Miles' plans are. There's someone helping him. Is he working with the Rebels?", he questioned me, ordering me to tell him as he leaned in closer and I could feel the hotness of his breath on my face.

"I wasn't with Miles when Neville found me... I told you that. It was just a coincidence that he found me there", I answered, trying my best to sound innocent.

"You know I don't believe in coincidences", Monroe hissed out, finally letting go of my jaw and swinging my head to the side as he did, making my neck snap painfully. He took a step back and turned to Strausser who was watching us from where he sat in the corner. "You gave me no choice but to do this, Jaime", Monroe said softly, nodding his head to Strausser who stood up from his chair and made his way towards me.

I breathed out tiredly as I let Strausser grab me. I thought he was going to march me out of here and take me to the interrogation room but instead he grabbed me and viciously slammed my back against the wall.

I let out yelp as the force shot sharp pains through my bruised and healing back. Luckily, my cuts were healed enough to not crack back open. He placed his forearm across my chest, stopping me from moving as he leaned in closer then I liked.

"Do you even know the meaning of gentle?", I hissed out angrily, trying to pull his hands off me but he was too strong.

Strausser just lifted his lips into a crooked smile. It raged me inside so much and when I was about lift my knee to strike him in the groan, he pressed his body closer into mine, stopping me from moving even an inch.

"Ah ah, my peach. Now, you're going to be a good little girl and tell Daddy what he needs to know", Strausser spat out joyfully.

"Get off me!", I yelled revolted, thrashing around, feeling very uncomfortable being so close to him.

I could see Monroe in the far corner with his hands in his pockets and his head down like we weren't even there.

"I suggest you tell me about Miles Matheson", Strausser hissed in my ear, making me turn my attention back to him.

"Look, if you want to drill your pathetic little knife into me just so you can get your sicko thrills then do so already. Just get the hell off me!", I yelled in his face sickened as I continued to struggle to get away from him.

"Nah ah, this was the General's idea...", he breathed out as he leaned in closer as his lips brushed my cheek.

I whimpered and tried to turn away but he grabbed my jaw roughly so I couldn't. He snickered and brushed his hand down my bare arm, his face was just inches from mine and like that, all of a sudden I was eight years old again in that tent with that tall bulky scary man leaning over my father's sliced neck as his blood dripped off the blade in his hand. And then that same scary man stood up and made his way towards me.

"Stop it... stop, please!", I whimpered painfully as my eyes began to water and I couldn't control them as they fell down my cheeks. I felt Strausser's hold loosen on me just a little from the surprise of my outburst because he's never seen me cry before. I'm guessing he thought he had to do a lot more to get me to crumble. "I don't know anything, I swear", I blurted out looking over at Monroe who was still looking down at the floor but I could see the tightness of his jaw, and the veins of his forearms popping out as he clenched his knuckles tightly, making them turn white. "Please make him stop, Bass", I begged, trying to wiggle out of Strausser's hands. When I called him by his nickname his head shot up and his eyes were dark but soft at the same time. "Bass, please!", I hiccupped, trying to push Strausser away but his grip only tightened.

"I don't think he cares", Strausser snickered as he leaned in closer, making me feel the warmth of his breath on my face.

"That's enough for now, Sergeant Strausser", Monroe said firmly as he walked over to us, his face blank from emotion.

I breathed out relieved, my body still shaking violently and the tears still softly falling down my cheeks. The pounding of my heart ceased just a little from his words even though Strausser was still close to me. I had no idea what was going through that thick skull of his, it was unnerving.

"But, General...", Strausser began, his grip tightening around me as he pulled his head back to face Monroe.

"You're dismissed", Monroe said firmly, and when Strausser didn't move straight away he cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrow, daring him to say another word.

"Yes Sir", Strausser nodded and quickly pulled away from me letting me collapse to the ground as he strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

I crumbled into a tight ball, not having the energy to hold myself up as I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around myself. I felt disgusting and dirty from just being near Strausser. My body was shaking violently as the tears kept coming, the knees of my pants getting soaked as I laid my head there.

Monroe kneeled in front of me, "Jaime...", he called and I felt his hand touch my knee.

I whacked his hand away fiercely and my head shot up as I glared holes through him. I was furious. How could he do this to me? "Don't touch me you sick bastard!", I yelled.

Monroe's delicate stare turned harsh, "most people don't talk to me like that", he growled out, his anger over-riding everything.

"I don't care!", I yelled in his face, hot tears still falling. "What are you going to do? Punch me, hit me, torture me again or make Strausser invade my personal space some more? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"If you gave me the answers I needed, then I wouldn't have to venture this far!", Bass yelled getting angry now, waving his hands around in frustration as he stood up from the ground, glaring down at me.

"Don't act like you have no control, Monroe! This is all you! Take responsibility for your actions", I sniffed, the tears stopping from fury overcoming my emotions.

"People rely on me to keep them safe. It's my responsibility to do all I can to keep them safe"

"What through torturing and massacring people?"

Monroe growled and he suddenly leaned forward, coming to his knees as he grabbed a fistful of my hair. He pulled my head to the side slightly, making my roots feel like they were going to be ripped out. "How are you any better, huh? You killed people, you killed dozens of people", he hissed out through clenched teeth.

"I was wrong!", I spat out angrily, groaning as Monroe finally let go of my hair and swung my head back, making it slam against the wall. I huffed as I glared at him, "at least I know I made mistakes. You... you don't even care. You know what happened to me when I was little", I began, tears automatically beginning to fall again, "And you used that as a tool to get me to talk. You let Strausser touch me...", I mumbled out unable to say anymore.

Monroe's face faltered a little, guilt finally evident on his face. "I didn't want to do that...", he said softly.

"But you did!", I yelled. "I hope Miles comes and releases a bullet through your head! And if he's too much of a coward to do it this time, I will!"

All the guilt on Monroe's face disappeared as his face scrunched up in absolute fury. Before I could react he raised his hand and back handed me across the face.

My head snapped to the side as his hand connected with my cheek. My face burnt but I was so angry at that moment that I barely even felt it. Before I could even dissolve what happened or turn my head back to face him, I heard his boots stomp across the timber floors and the door slam violently shut, leaving me to myself once again.

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><p><span><em><strong>Writer's Note:<strong>_

Hello!

Sorry for the very delayed update. I've been busy with my other story and it doesn't look like much people are reading this. So if you are, please leave a review to let me know if you like it.

Rose x.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

I was still sitting on Monroe's bedroom floor as my heart rate slowly calmed down and my adrenaline began to deflate. I touched my swollen cheek where Monroe hit me and I finally began to feel the pain. It wasn't bad though, nothing was worse than how much my back hurt right now. Strausser didn't make it feel any better when he slammed me against the wall.

Monroe walked out on me five minutes ago and I was still crumbled in a ball on the ground where he left me. I was still in shock of what he let Strausser do to me. And I don't know why but when he smacked me across the face, it hurt me so bad and not in the physically sense. Monroe has gone overboard. He is not the man he used to be at all. I thought I saw part of the old Bass before but judging from what happened today, the spec of gentleness he showed me after I was tortured, I concluded that it was all an act.

I shook my head angrily, wiping away the dry tears that were still on my cheek with the back of my hand. I have to stop crying and get out of here. Because if I don't, the next thing Bass has left to do to me is kill me. I slowly got up from the floor, determination slightly overtaking my pain as I walked over to the large window. Monroe's room was on the second floor and I've sneaked out of this building many times in the past so I was kind of an expert.

I quickly strode over to Bass' dressing table, opening the last draw as I rummaged through his stuff. A smile crept on my face. He still kept it there. I grabbed the medium sized army knife that he under some clothes. The knife had a black rubber handle and a sharp charcoal blade. It was covered by a khaki army patterned fabric sheath that can clip on your belt. It was Monroe's first knife he received when he was in the army with Miles before the blackout. He kept it in the same place all this time. You'd never think Sebastian Monroe was a sentimental kind of guy.

I clipped the knife to my belt and walked over to the large window. I unlocked it and gently pushed it open trying not to make too much noise. Monroe walked out on me because he was so angry. It's just a matter of time before he cools down and realises that he left me unbound in his room where I can easily escape.

I placed my boot on the windowsill and pulled my body outside as I held onto the concrete window frame. I slowly climbed my way down with ease as I placed my boot carefully on each outed brick and crack until my feet hit solid ground. I huffed out happily, brushing the dirt off my clothes. Luckily Monroe's room was at the back side of the building so there weren't any guards standing there. I looked up seeing the window of Monroe's room wide open and the curtains blowing out of it. I had to hurry.

I tiptoed my way to the end of the building, making my body stay pressed against it so I wasn't too exposed. When I got to the corner of the building, I took in a deep breath and peered around the other side. There were many Militia soldiers guarding that side, but they were still pretty far at the front of the building. But there was one soldier that was only a few yards away. He was hiding in the shadows. He looked young, only a boy. I saw him huff tiredly and pull out a silver flask from his navy Militia shirt and take a long swig from it. He pursed his lips as the liquid stung his throat, and with a shake of his head he turned his back to me, putting the flask back in his jacket.

I quickly crept behind him before he went to make his way back to the other soldiers. My heart was pounding but I was steady and ready. I've done this many times before. When I was close enough I lunged my arms out, wrapping them across the boys neck and mouth so he couldn't yell for help. I took him by surprise so I easily thudded him back against the concrete wall so he was out of sight. His eyes went wide when he looked up at me, surprised. Before he could fight back I grabbed his head and thudded it hard against the concrete wall, knocking him out cold.I let out a breath as I softly placed his body on the floor and grabbed him by his hands before I began pulling his limp body back so he was completely out if view. I quickly striped him of his Militia uniform, leaving the boy in his boxers and singlet. I pulled the black baggy pants over my jeans, tucking them into my boots. Then I pulled on the navy button down shirt over my shirt, and pulled my hair back in a tight bun. The boy only had a handgun so I attached it to his belt strap that I was wearing.

Inhaling a deep breath to ready myself, I made my way to the front gates, out of Monroe's headquarters. There were about five men guarding the exit with AK's in their hands. Why couldn't the soldiers wear a hat or something so I cover my face at least a little? If they paid attention to me when I walked out and saw I was a young woman, they'd be more suspicious. They allowed women to fight but there were only a few specially selected women and everyone knew them.

I was about ten yards away from the gate and they didn't even notice me yet. The men were engrossed in a group conversation and some were even smoking cigarettes. How did they even find those? I took a few more steps, my head low and just when I was about five yards away I heard heavy stomping from behind me and a loud familiar voice yell.

"Jaime!", Monroe's voice roared from behind automatically making my head snap back to look at him. He was striding down the front steps of the building with a bunch of guards behind him. He was furious and he swung his hand around ordering his men, "Get her!", he yelled.

The bunch of Militia men's heads shot up from the commotion and when they heard the General's command, they moved swiftly in front of the gate so I couldn't get through. Thankfully, Monroe and his men were still a fair bit away. I have time to get pass these five and bolt out of here.

My mind and body were worked on overdrive as I quickly strode towards them. They realised who I was. They knew Monroe had orders that I wasn't to be harmed because I carried precious information. They had their guns in their hands but they didn't fire because they didn't wants to risk accidently killing me, and then be killed by the General himself for their mistake. I rose my gun shooting one of them in the head and then another in the chest. Those two men fell and then the hugest one of them grabbed my arm, twisting the gun out of my hand, making it fall to the muddy ground far from my reach. I lifted my knee, thudding him in the gut and hooking him in the jaw. Another came at me and I quickly ducked, pulled out my knife and sliced him across the neck. The last man laid his hand on my shoulder and spun me around, and I quickly ducked from the hook he threw and stabbed him in the stomach.

I took a quick look back, seeing Monroe and his men not far behind. I turned and bolted my way through the gate and down the gravel road. There were people scattered around the streets, walking to where they needed to be. Children were holding their mother's hands and fathers held their kids on their shoulders.

And I was running for my life. It's funny how something so horrible is happening where people looked so innocent. There were Militia soldiers scattered here and there but they weren't aware of what was going on to stop me.

My legs were moving fast as I rounded another corner, still able to hear the Militia's pounding feet behind me in a chase. I still held the bloody knife in my hands and people ahead of me gave me odd looks before I passed them in a blur. I was breathing heavily as I rounded another corner and stopped dead in my tracks when I saw about eight Militia men standing there in a line with their guns raised, barricading me.

I turned my head to the left then the right, there weren't any side streets or alleyways so I quickly turned around and began running backwards but froze again when Monroe stepped out from around from the corner, with a dozen men behind him.

I was trapped.

My eyes still shot around, trying to find any form of escape or any route I could take to get out of this one but there were none.

"You're cornered, Jaime!", Monroe yelled out in a hiss as he stomped his way angrily towards me, spreading out his arms.

"Stay back or I'll kill you Monroe, I swear!", I yelled a little crazed as I rose his knife that I stole. It was still dripping with the blood of his men.

Monroe stopped in his tracks and then chuckled. He then waved his arms around, gesturing to his men behind me and in front of me, "I have about twenty men with their guns aimed at your head right now... and you want to threaten me?"

"Acts of a desperate girl I guess", I smirked with a shrug, still standing strong as I tightened my grip around the knife.

"They will put a bullet through your head before you even get close enough to use that thing", he spat out angrily gesturing to my knife. When I didn't lower my weapon he groaned frustrated, "Better yet...", he muttered then roughly pulled out his pistol from his belt, "I might as well put a bullet through your head myself", he growled, aiming his gun at me as he took another step forward. "Put down the knife, Sullivan", he ordered me like I was one of his soldiers again.

My heart began to beat faster as Monroe kept steadily making his way towards me with his gun raised. Truth is, I was scared. I really didn't know if Monroe was bluffing or not. Would he actually kill me? He could hurt me and put me through extreme amounts of pain... but could he put a bullet through my head? I guess I'm about to find out.

When he got close enough I ignored the voices screaming in my head, telling me to back down. I could die here. I could die right now but I was so angry that I didn't care. I just wanted him to know that I hated him and that yes, I could kill him. I mean, I hope I could.

He took another steady step, with his gun still raised. My hands began to shake as he got close enough to touch. I couldn't move. I was frozen. I wanted to lash out and stab him but I knew he was fast and if he wanted he'd blast me easily. Monroe took another slow step towards me and then swiftly swung his free hand out, grabbing my wrist with the blade in it and twisted it making me yelp in pain and instinctively drop the knife making it clonk against the hard cement road. I didn't fight back though because I just couldn't do it. I couldn't kill him. There was too much history there. I wanted to hurt him so badly.

"I knew you didn't have it in you", Monroe growled, watching my strong face fall into a defeated one. He had one hand around my wrist and the other hand was pointing a gun to my head. Monroe then pulled at my wrist and tugged me forward so he could press the cold barrel of his gun underneath my chin. "Miles couldn't do it. What makes you think you can?", he whispered softly, as he cocked his head to the side.

His words infuriated me because he was right. "And you think you're so tough, huh?", I growled, grabbing his wrist that held the gun. I pulled it up from my chin and pointed the gun to my forehead. "Kill me!", I spat out aggressively.

Monroe's face grew serious as his jaw clenched tighter, surprised by my outburst. He clenched the gun in his hand tighter and I breathed in nervously as his finger tightened around the trigger. Was he actually going to do it? I forced myself not to remove my eyes from his piercing blue ones as he glared down at me in concentration. His face suddenly fell and he let his arm carrying the pistol drop to his side. "You know I can't do that, Jaime. You have information that I need", he smirked.

I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding and groaned. I couldn't tell if he was telling the truth, if he didn't kill me because I had information on Miles or because he just couldn't. I hoped for the latter, rather than the former because it would prove he still has some part of him that was still human.

Before I could say anything he swung his arm around, hitting the butt of the gun against my head.

Everything went black before I could even feel myself hit the ground.

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><p><strong><em><span>Writer's Note:<span>_**

Hey!

I hope you guys are enjoying this fic so far. I'm coming to a bit of a writers block so its going to be ending soon. I don't want to have to follow the series with it because that would be boring. If anyone has any suggestions on how you'll like Jaime's story to end, feel free to give me your ideas. Review or PM me, it doesn't matter I'm very open minded.

Thank you for the few people who have been reviewing and reading this so far. It means a lot :)

Rose x.


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